


Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accept no substitutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing

When he was a kid at summer camp, Lance’s mom always sent the best care packages, full of cookies and gum and clean socks. All of the other kids were jealous of Lance’s packages, even though he shared the sweets with the whole cabin. For a day, he was the cool kid. Ever since, he’d loved getting packages in the mail.

The box had been there when he got home from the grocery store, sitting innocently on his front steps. If there’d been an Amazon.com logo on the side, it could have passed for a delivery of DVDs or books- it was the right size. But the plain brown box had only PO Box in the top left corner, which, of course, meant one thing: his shipment from his favorite adult website had finally arrived.

Lance sat the box on the coffee table while he put away groceries, continuously checking on it as he shoved fruit and vegetables into his refrigerator drawer. It didn’t move. When he was done, he went into the living room and sat on the sofa, watching the box. He poked it with his toe, thinking maybe it would come alive and tell him he wasn’t crazy for doing this.

Justin was leaving on tour in a few days, and they’d be apart for the first time since the middle of the great comeback tour. It had started with a bout of drunken sex that kept repeating itself until they both admitted it wasn’t so much the drunkenness that kept them coming back to each other. Somewhere along the way they’d fallen into some sort of love with each other, weird as it was. And now separation was looming for the first time since it all began.

Lance grabbed the box from the coffee table and carried it upstairs to the bathroom. He used his pocket knife to slit the tape, then laid the contents out on the long white counter. The inner box was blue and yellow, reminding him of the Swedish flag, which made him think of the Swedish penis enlarger, which was not good.

“If you’re going to do it, do it,” he breathed, pulling the tab that held the box closed and emptying it to the counter. Tubes and bottles lay in a heap before him, along with a tall beaker that reminded him of 10th grade chemistry class.

“Instructions,” he muttered, grapping the box and pulling out the folded paper that was stuck inside. “OK.” He sat down on the toilet to read.

Everything he’d read online assured him that all of the materials used were non-toxic, hypo-allergenic, but he was still a little leery of the whole process. He had no idea how Justin was going to respond to such a bizarre gift. It wasn’t every day your boyfriend gave you a reproduction of his dick as a going away present.

It had been JC who’d first mentioned it, just some idea. Lance had been looking for something new, a toy, something he could send with Justin when his tour began in a few days. JC knew more about sex than anyone else on earth, probably- gay, straight, and other kinds Lance didn't want to think about- and had told him about the kits.

Over lunch the week before, JC had said, “Seriously, Lance, go talk to this guy Ramon. He runs a shop down in WeHo, and he knows all about this stuff.”

Lance imagined walking into a porn shop, probably a gay porn shop, and trading stories with Ramon. “Thanks. I think I’ll try Google first.”

He found it online, researched it, read testimonies on it, and ordered it on a whim. He’d even paid for the overnight shipping to make sure it came in time.

The instructions said that he only had a few minutes once it was mixed, and so he decided to get things going ahead of time. Setting all of the stuff out on the counter, he slipped down to his boxers and tiptoed fingers down his chest. His hands were cold, so he blew on them to warm his fingers before sliding them beneath the waistline of his shorts.

Lance only thought of Justin while jerking off, which he supposed was a good thing, that he wasn’t fantasizing about Colin Ferrell or Orlando Bloom like he used to. He read somewhere that everyone fantasized about other people, but God, why would you when you knew what Justin was like in bed? The way he could twist his hips just that way, or the little kisses he left on your spine while he was so deep inside of you. Lance had only just started to touch himself and he was already so hard. That he was doing this crazy thing only turned him on more.

He kneaded a little more, just squeezing, scratching in the hair just above his dick to get it excited. That was it, yeah, right-- hair. Oh shit. He didn’t have to shave to use this stuff, did he? He flipped through the instructions, but there was nothing about hair. Shit.

Lance rummaged through the medicine cabinet, coming up with a jar of Vaseline he used as back-up lube when the good stuff ran out. He scooped some out in the crook of two fingers and applied it liberally, slicking up his pubic hair. Better goopy than having it stick to the plaster and… ouch.

The extra slickness helped some as he got back to work, letting his mind wander back to Justin and the little freckles on his lower back. They tasted like salt and sweetness when Lance licked at them. He squeezed his dick, feeling it plump in his hand, growing harder and harder.

“Oh, yeah,” he moaned, nice and hard now, stroking up and down in a slow, sensual rhythm. He so rarely jacked off anymore, what with Justin around all the time to help, but damn, he was going to be doing this a lot more now.

He was so close, but he had to stop, suddenly, forcing his hand away. With shaking hands, he filled a glass with water, sticking in the tiny thermometer to make sure it was the right temperature. The instructions warned that making it too warm would cause it to harden too quickly. 23 degrees Celsius- thank God all that time in Europe that had taught him to convert from Fahrenheit- and he was ready to go.

The stuff resembled the gummy-pasty concoction they’d used to take molds of his teeth when he got braces years ago. He spooned it into the cup, then checked his watch. Three and a half minutes, maximum, so he wiped his hands and went back to his dick, stroking fast now, getting right to the peak before suddenly pulling off and plunging in, burying all the way up to his balls. It was squishy and he tried not to compare it to pussy, because that would just make him wilt. Instead, he held the beaker to his groin and played with his nipples with his free hand, keeping the image of Justin in his mind while he let the mold stiffen.

From down the hall, the phone rang. Fuck, Lance thought, trying to decide whether or not to run and get it. He took a step, then paused as the ringing stopped and the machine kicked in.

“Hi Lance, it’s mom. Just calling to check in. I’ll try your cell phone.”

Lance groaned and didn’t, he didn’t think of his mother, not at all, instead there was Justin, doing that little striptease dance in his head, naked and sexy, and, yeah. If he could just focus on that, and oh, it was a fucking incredible image, he could pretend that he hadn’t just heard his mom calling while he was molding his erect penis.

He checked his watch, only thirty seconds to go. He followed the second hand as it ticked around its circle, sighing with relief when he finally pulled out of the mold. He turned to the sink and finished himself off, spurting into the basin with a groan of relief. He wiped his clean hand over his face as his body relaxed. Then he began to laugh, giggling naked in the bathroom with a mold of his dick ready for filling.

**

Joey called before dinner that night, inviting Lance over for a barbecue. Joey, the family man, had taken to a life of domesticity since the great comeback tour ended. When Lance got to his house, Joey was already out back at the grill. Briahna was swinging in the yard.

“Uncle Lance! Watch Me!” She pumped her legs harder then jumped off the swing in midair. She landed and sunk to her hands, springing up again in a gymnasts’ salute. Lance clapped loudly and cheered. His goddaughter was so cute.

“I’m gonna do it again. Watch, OK?”

“OK,” he agreed, as she climbed back onto the swing.

“Kel thinks she’s gonna break her leg,” Joey said, watching his daughter swing.

“You don’t seem worried.” Lance grabbed a carrot stick from the platter on the picnic table and munched happily.

“She’s a tough kid.” There was pride in Joey’s voice as he watched his daughter pump her short legs. She leapt off again, this time sticking the landing.

“Briahna Joelly!” Her mother’s voice rang from the doorway. “I’ve told you not to do that.” She glared at the two men. “Don’t encourage her.”

Lance raised his hands in defeat, then gave Kelly a hug. He rubbed at her swollen belly. “How you doing, Kel?”

“This one’s been a breeze so far. It figures that the pregnancy daddy’s around to help with is the easiest in the world.”

“Hey, lady, you didn’t have to live with this guy freaking out 24/7 last time. I’d take a little morning sickness any day, if it meant not being woken up by Joey at 3 am wondering what would happen if he accidentally swore in front of the baby.”

Joey thwacked him upside the head with a spatula. Ow.

It was a nice meal, homey. Times like these made Lance miss his family, and he swore to travel home for a long weekend soon. He had time now, after all, and he hadn’t been back since Claire’s first birthday. His youngest niece was eighteen months, and talking up a storm according to her mom. Sometimes it made Lance wonder if he and Justin would ever have a family of their own. The thought usually got filed in the “after thirty” folder of his mind’s filing cabinet. There was time down the road.

“When’s J leaving?” Joey asked, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth.

“Tour kicks off in San Diego on the 23rd.” Justin’s second solo album had done even better than the first, enough to warrant a solo headlining tour this time. “He’s got three more days here before flying out for final rehearsals and stuff.”

“I’m surprised you’re not going to the opening show,” Kelly said.

Lance shrugged. He’d thought about it but decided it’d be easier to leave Justin early, a clean break, rather than tagging along on the road then trying to pull away. Lance had never done well with drawn out goodbyes.

“You’ll miss him,” Kelly said. Lance blushed.

”Yeah.” After six months together, it was hard to picture days without Justin around, sleeping next to him and waking together. They only had three days left.

After dinner, Lance and Joey sat on the deck with Briahna, spitting watermelon seeds into the garden. Lance’s phone rang just as Briahna was starting to fade.

“I’ll take her in,” Joey said.

Lance pressed a kiss to her cheek. “ ‘Night, baby.”

He opened his phone as Joey went inside. “Hey, J.”

“Hey, where are you?” Justin’s voice was tired.

“At Joey’s. He barbecued.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. Tell him hi.”

“I will. What’s up?”

“Just leaving the stadium. Wanted to know if I could come over? We’ve only got a few days left.”

Lance remembered the mold in his bathroom. He’d filled it before coming to Joey’s and left it to solidify. “How about I meet you at your place? That way, you get a few more nights in your own bed.”

“Yeah?” Justin’s voice perked up. “You’re the best, baby.”

Lance hung up and went inside, where Kelly was finishing up the dishes.

“You taking off?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to meet Justin. Tell Joey Justin says hi, and I’ll call him soon.”

“Sure. Drive safely.” She held the front door for him and waiting, waving as he drove away. Lance was really glad that she and Joey had finally tied the knot. He liked having another sister.

**

Lance got home early the next morning after ushering Justin out to dance rehearsals. Justin had been clingy, lingering over breakfast and kisses in the garage. Lance hadn’t objected much.

Scooping up the mail from the day before, he settled out by the pool to read it. Junk, junk, bank statement, credit card application, LL Bean catalogue- nothing that took more than a few minutes to browse through. He dropped it to the patio and lay back, soaking up the cool morning sunlight. Orlando in the spring was beautiful.

He had a meeting later for the new Happy Place movie, set to begin shooting in June when the young stars would be out of school. The next Olsen twins, everyone was saying, and Lance had gotten them early. Their last movie had done double the sales of On The Line in a month.

He puttered around for a while, picking up old magazines in the den for recycling and making up a lasagna he could heat up later for dinner. Justin would be hungry when he got home.

It had been almost 24 hours by the time he checked his project in the bathroom. It was gelling up nicely, but he couldn’t really see anything except the smooth top. He read the instructions again. He had to wait another day, which was cutting it pretty close.

**

Justin showed up around eight, just as Lance was pulling the pan from the oven. He had an incredible knack for arriving right when the work was done. He’d learned it from JC.

“Is that eggplant?” he asked, sniffing around Lance’s shoulders.

“No, hamburger and cheese. I forgot to buy eggplant yesterday.” Lance cut big slices with the spatula and dumped them onto waiting places.

“That’s OK. This smells so good.” Justin carried the plates to the table as Lance poured two glasses of wine.

“Well, I figured you’re gonna be without home cooked meals for a while.”

Justin nodded, his mouth already full. “ ‘s hot,” he said around a huge bite, grabbing for the wine. Lance blew on his fork before eating.

“How was rehearsal?”

“Long. Hard. Tomorrow’s the last one, you know? Everyone’s tense.”

“Things’ll calm down after kickoff.” Lance sipped at his wine, watching Justin over the rim of the glass. The dying sunlight made his skin glow golden.

“Yeah, they usually do. Dana and Taran are fighting again, so everytime we stop they’re all over each other about every little thing.” Two of Justin’s backup dancers had an on-again, off-again romance that drove the entire stage crew insane. “You had that meeting today, right?”

“Yeah, it went pretty well. We’re set to start on June 20, and Disney’s come through for the water park stuff, so that’s good.” The story was about two kids who found a ring at that bottom of the pool and set out to found the owners, discovering a jewel heist and getting their dad to fall for the cute female lifeguard in the process.

“That’s cool.” Justin caught his eyes and they both smiled. “We’re so fucking domestic, you do realize that.”

Lance laughed and took Justin’s hand. “Yup.”

Later on, Lance was grabbing at Justin’s hips as Justin rode him in a laid back, lazy rhythm. Justin was a talker, moaning out “There, oh, God, yeah, oh yeah” as he rocked back and forth, up and down. Lance arched against him, holding tight. He dropped his head to the pillow, every muscle clenched, shooting up deep into Justin’s ass. Justin shuddered and tensed above him. His hands worked furiously until he shot creamy spurts up Lance’s chest, catching his cheek with one eager strand.

Still coming down, Justin laughed and wiped at Lance’s face with sticky fingers. “Sorry.”

“You’re like a geyser,” Lance said, catching Justin’s hand and pulling it to his mouth. He licked off the cooling mess, teasing Justin with his tongue.

“I can’t help it,” Justin said bashfully. “It’s always done that.”

They showered together, after, and crept through the cool air-conditioned room back to bed.

“Will you come by tomorrow?” Justin asked. “I want you to see the final run-through.”

“I’d like that.” Justin didn’t ask him for much straight out like that, so Lance always gave him what he wanted when he did. They lay on either side of the bed, hands resting together in the middle. Both of them liked space while they slept, but they’d gotten into the habit of talking at night, facing each other in the dark. Justin poked at the freckles on Lance’s wrist. “I like listening to you describe it. The tour.”

He would have said more, about how he loved the excitement in Justin’s voice and the way he’d do little dance moves in the kitchen while drying the dishes, but Justin’s eyes were drooping shut and his lips made little smacking noises as he fell asleep. Lance stayed awake for a long time, watching his boyfriend slumber.

**

Lance had lunch with JC the next afternoon, a weekly tradition they’d started when they were both living in LA. Today, it was lobster and salads at a restaurant on the outskirts of town.

If JC had been even remotely gay, Lance was sure they would have hooked up years ago. But JC, despite all of the sparkles and pink shirts, was hopelessly heterosexual. Currently, he was dating Eva, who been the video editor for the first version of the All Day Long video, the one that had too much sex and couldn’t be shown on MTV. JC would crack up telling people that the first thing she’d said to him was “Hi, I’m the one who makes sure none of your naked stuff is showing.” Lance loved her boldness, and the fact that JC’s face lit up whenever she walked into a room. JC loved her, and six months ago, Lance had fallen for Justin instead. Life was weird.

JC was always an adventure these days. Right now, he was in the studio again, working on his own follow-up album. The lineup of producers was even more diverse than the last time, and JC was clearly in his elements among the bastards of British pop.

“So, we started using this beat from some DJ in Liverpool, very early 90s dance era, and layered the riffs over them so they’re melding in this funky syncopation… you’re not even paying attention, are you?”

Lance smiled apologetically. “Sorry. My mind’s just… elsewhere.”

“Dude, are you sure you don’t want to go on the road with him? Cause the way both of y’all are moping around about the missing each other so much, it doesn’t make much sense to stay behind.”

“He’s said he wants me to go?” Lance asked, surprisingly pleased he wasn’t the only one with doubts.

“He doesn’t want to be away from you for four months. He understands it, accepts it, but doesn’t like it.”

Lance figured that this would when all else was considered, going to be the “make-it-or-break-it” of their relationship. They’d talked about it, figured it out, come to terms with it but none of those things were the same as actually being apart.

“You’re worried,” JC commented, wiping butter off of his lips. Even after he blotted, they glistened. “Don’t be. Seriously. J’s never been in a relationship that wasn’t punctuated by touring. I’d be more worried about your chances if you two suddenly became attached at the hip.”

“Yeah. It’s just hard, knowing he’s going to be gone. And then I’m like, what the fuck. When did that happen?”

JC laughed, clapping his hands. “It always sneaks up on you, man. Love’s a bitch.”

**

Justin’s show was big, so big Lance could hardly believe there was only one person featured on the stage. Lance stood with the sound techs, watching the final dress rehearsal before the whole stage was shipped off to California.

Justin had toned down the stunts but was no less spectacular. He still danced like a 20-year-old, full of energy and passion. JC had that same quality, but Justin tunneled it into a precision no one else could ever quite achieve. The show was heavy on instrumentation, from Justin’s newly developed guitar riff skills to his passionate piano chords on “Rain Days,” the big hit ballad he’d written as their last tour wound down. It was Lance’s favorite song on the album.

Justin had jumped off the stage and stood, expectantly, eying Lance until he smiled and nodded, approval written all over his face. Justin had whooped and began thanking everyone, saying his goodbyes until they would meet again on the opposite coast.

**

“Will you help me pack?” Justin asked that night in bed, lying in Lance’s arms.

“You haven’t packed?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

Justin ruffled the short hairs at the back of Lance’s head. “Well, I know what I’m packing, but I haven’t actually put it in the suitcase yet.”

Lance could sneak his little surprise into Justin’s suitcase, and he’d never have to face the embarrassment of being there when Justin discovered it. “Sure, baby. I’ll help.”

He went home again the next morning, letting Justin sleep in. Justin looked so unstressed in his sleep. The little wrinkles in his forehead that worry created were all smoothed. Lance touched the spot where they popped up, hoping they stayed away.

At home, he took the stairs two by two, kneeling in front of the bathroom sink. He pulled the mold from the cabinet, where it was hidden behind the pipes with spare bottles of Listerine and ace bandages. 48 hours, or pretty damn close, and it was time to see if this thing actually worked or if he’d just wasted eighty dollars on goo.

Once he’d gotten everything cleaned off, and had it in his hands-- Oh. Wow. That really was his dick there. Balls and everything, reproduced in the finest rubber available over the internet. It even had the slight curve to the right.

Lance slid his hand over it, feeling how much it was just like his own cock, amazed at how well it had turned out. He imagined Justin lying in a hotel bed in a foreign city, pulling the toy from his bag after a long day of interviews and rehearsals, pretending Lance was there with him. Oh, yeah.

He was tempted to try it out, but the idea of giving a used dildo was gross, even if it wasn’t like Justin had never licked his ass. Still, he resisted, liking the idea of Justin christening it on the road. He rolled it up in one of the hand towels from the bathroom and stuck it into the overnight bag he was taking with him to Justin’s. Time to go pack, and tomorrow, he had to say goodbye.

**

The phone rang late in the morning a few days later, while Lance was pounding away on a treadmill. He muted the DVD he had playing-- a compilation of music videos that Justin had made for him a few months ago-- and grabbed the phone from the wall.

" 'Lo?" he said, breathing heavy.

"Hey, baby." Justin's voice was positively purring, and Lance knew he'd found it.

"Hey there." He let the machine run down and sat down on the back, knees spread. "How'd the show go last night?" He’d seen all of the online reviews and the San Diego papers had raving reports, but he knew Justin would have a better story.

"It was OK. I could tell you at least five things that went wrong."

Lance scratched at an itch on his knee. "Only five? That's pretty good for opening night."

Justin made noncommital noises in the other end of the phone. Lance wondered how long it would take him to dance around before getting to the point. "I guess. Tonight'll be better, I think. LA's always a good crowd."

"Yup." Lance stomped his feet a little, anxious to hear Justin's reaction. "What'd you do after?"

"Just came back to the room, crashed. I was bouncing on the bus, then just died when I got back here." He paused and Lance could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“So, yeah, anyway. My bag got mixed up with my mom’s when we got here and she’s been staring at me all strange the past few days.”

Lance felt his stomach drop. Fucking A.

On the other end of the phone, Justin laughed. “Nah, I’m just kidding. It hasn’t left my possession, I swear.”

Lance’s heart beat back to normal. “Not funny, J.”

He laughed again. “Yeah, it was. But, um. Yeah.”

Lance felt himself blushing, glad he was alone. “So you found it,” he said casually, pretending he wasn’t holding his breath for Justin’s reaction. At least he wasn’t mad or offended.

“Mmmm, last night. I was looking for my red hat and it just rolled out. It’s… damn, Lance, it’s you.” He emphasized the last word, voice pitching upward.

His cheeks were flaming. Thank God he recognized it, Lance thought. “It’s just something I saw online and thought I’d try. You know, a surprise.”

“Mmmm,” Justin hummed again. “I really hope you didn’t go to some professional to have it made.”

“What? Not, it’s a strictly do-at-home kind of thing.” Lance got up and began to pace. “So, you like it?”

Justin hummed again, and Lance was wondering if it was the only sound he could make. “It’s just like you. It’s almost as good as having you. Not as good, cause I love your dick but it’s not all of you, but it’s. It’s easier to pretend you’re here.”

Which was exactly what Lance was going for. He might not admit it to anyone, but he had his doubts as to whether Justin would want to stay with him when he was back on the road with his celebrity groupies again. Justin had never been good at resisting temptation. Lance trusted him with his life, but maybe not with his heart, not completely.

“So, have you tried it?”

Justin laughed. “There’s a reason I didn’t go out last night.” There was teasing in his voice. The mental image of Justin lying face-up on a bed working himself up rushed into Lance’s head. Fuck, that was hot.

“Next time,” Justin said breathily, “I’m gonna call you and let you talk me through it. Make you tell me what to do as I take your dick all the way up inside me.”

“Fuck,” Lance swore, one hand already down his pants. Justin gave the best phone sex ever.

Through the line, Justin laughed. “OK. I gotta go shot a spot for some talk show out here.

“What?” Lance’s brain suffered mental whiplash and the quick shift in topics. “But we’re in the middle of…”

“Aww, sorry, baby. But I’ll call tonight and we can finish things.”

“Fuck you, Justin, seriously.”

“I love you too,” he laughed and disconnected.

Lance sat down on the weight bench and jacked off watching TV, where Justin danced to the muted words of Rock Your Body.

**

There were two weeks between the time Justin left and the time Lance flew out to meet him. Most of the time Lance spent on the set of the new movie, making sure everything was set up and getting the filming underway. He babysat for Briahna while Joey and Kelly went out for their anniversary, breaking into Joey’s home movie collection to show her clips of her dad acting like a fool while they were in Germany. They giggled way past her bedtime, then raced up the stairs and into bed when they heard the car in the driveway.

He met JC for lunch at the sushi place downtown on the second Wednesday. Eva was with him, which Lance didn’t mind at all. She knew a lot more about sushi than he did, and he trusted her a lot more than JC, who liked to try every weird thing on the menu.

“Have you heard from J?” JC asked after swallowing a huge bite. He chugged some water and fanned his mouth dramatically. “Spicy.”

Lance passed his water over after JC downed that too. “Yeah. Every night, basically. And sometimes in the morning, or at lunchtime.”

Eva slapped JC’s arm playfully. “How come you don’t call me that often?”

“Ow!” he cried, mocking pain. “Because you’d say I was too clingy and break up with me?”

“True enough,” she agreed. “I’m sorry, Lance, continue.”

“Yeah, so. He’s good about calling. And I’m going out there soon.” He swirled his chopsticks in a dollop of wasabi on his plate.

“Hey, did you ever talk to Ramon about that thing you were looking for?”

Lance blushed. “Um. No. I found it on my own.”

Eva eyed JC critically. “You sent him to Ramon,” she said flatly.

“Yeah, he was looking for something.” JC took another bite of sushi. “He wanted to send Justin a goodbye present.”

“C, could you shut up now?” Lance said. He took back his empty water glass and signaled the waiter.

“What? I would have told her anyway.” JC looked at Eva, who was staring at Lance. “Hello?”

“Ssh,” she said batting his hand away. “I’m imaging Justin and Lance using something of Ramon’s. Don’t interrupt.”

JC cocked his head and stared too. Lance blushed even further, feeling like he was on trial across from two pairs of peering eyes.

“Stop picturing me naked,” he said, annoyed.

“Oh, but it’s delicious. In fact,” she said, turning to JC. “If you wanted to join them, I’d have no objections to that.”

JC balked, and Lance laughed brightly at the shock on his face. He’d considered it, a few times. Hell, who wouldn’t? He raised his eyebrows at JC suggestively, enjoying the way JC was eyeing Eva warily now.

Eva grinned wickedly. “Honestly. No objections at all.”

Lance laughed even louder, feeling better than he had in days.

**

Justin did call a lot, whenever he had a free moment. He didn’t get a lot of them, and his schedule was pretty erratic- some days he was up early for morning radio or talk show interviews, other days he had to jump from the show to the bus for all night rides. Lance always felt bad, so he always took the call, even when it came in the middle of something.

This time, the something was a call with Chris.

“Hey, can I put you on hold for a sec?” Lance asked when his cell phone rang. He could hear Chris sigh through the other end of the phone.

“Fine. But I’m warning you, there are more interesting people than you I could be talking to, so I may disappear.” Chris was at MTV studios putting together a behind the scenes show about his latest indiepunk label and its debut group.

Lance punched a button on his desk phone and switched over to his cell. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, just talking to Chris. Where are you?” Lance leaned back in his chair and looked out the windows. There were a couple of birds playing in the lawn sprinklers.

“On the bus, heading from San Francisco to Portland. I think we’re pretty close to the border. I’m bored.”

“Oh, so you want me to entertain you?” Lance said wryly.

Justin growled at him. “Mmm, yeah. Cause I’ll all alone in the bedroom here and I’m playing with my toy.”

Lance’s mind was filled with Justin, separated from the rest of the people on the bus by only a thin door, lying naked on the bed with the phone to his ear. He gulped.

“You like that toy,” Lance said. “You’re always playing with it.”

“Mmm. It’s my favorite. It just fits so well. In fact, I think I’m gonna try it right now.” Lance’s free hand drifted down to his lap as he listened to Justin’s breath panting into the phone, followed by a low moan. “Ohhhh, there it is,” he heard. Goddamn that was hot. Lance was tempted to jump a plane the next day. That afternoon. He wondered if he could get a flight within the hour.

“Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell me what it’s like to fuck yourself with it.” Lance popped the button on his pants and slid the zipper down with a fast hiss, freeing his swelling cock.

Justin didn’t answer, just moaned again. His breath was coming faster now, and Lance tried to match the strokes of his hand to the sounds.

His brain was on overload, but not enough to block out the snickering coming from somewhere in the room. He paused, one hand holding his phone the other on his dick, staring at the speaker on the desk that was currently laughing very quietly.

“Chris?”

“What?” Justin said in his ear, at the same time he heard Chris yell “DUDE!”

Lance fumbled his cell phone, staring at the red light on the phone. The speaker option was active. Shit.

“Dude, I hope that was Justin you were talking to! I can’t believe you put me on hold to have phone sex with your boyfriend!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t have the courtesy to hang up!” Lance said, though it wasn’t true. He completely believed that Chris would listen in on a private conversation, especially one with future blackmail or embarrassment potential.

“Lance?” Justin’s voice faintly called from the floor. Lance grabbed for the phone.

“Hang on, J.” He switched back to the desk phone and said goodbye, loudly, slamming the receiver down firmly. “Sorry,” he said.

“What happened?” Justin asked.

“Don’t ask,” Lance moaned. “I’m sure Chris will tell you all about it. Can we get back to what we were doing?” he asked, already grabbing for his cock once more.

“Oh. I, um. I already finished.” Justin’s voice was meek. Lance sighed. It figured.

“I can help you, though,” Justin offered nicely. Lance shrugged. What the hell.

“Ok,” he said, leaning back in the chair, stroking his dick once more. “Tell me again what it feels like.”

**

Lance's stomach dropped with a jolt as the plane touched down, jostling him awake. Groggily, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and waiting patiently to exit the plane. Vegas.

Justin couldn't meet him at the airport, of course. That would cause riots they hadn't seen the likes of since Germany. But he was waiting at the hotel the minute Lance walked in the room, rushing into Lance's arms before Lance could even drop his bags.

Justin was as solid and strong as ever, and still smelled like Listernine and his expensive cologne. Lance didn't let go as Justin kissed him, quick little kisses with words like "missed you" and "been so long" in between.

When they finally pulled apart, and Lance got a chance to drop his laptop case to the table, Justin wasted no time pulling him down to the sofa to cuddle closely together. He was warm and his long arms just enveloped Lance, who tucked his feet between the cushions and leaned back.

"You're letting your hair grow," Lance said, twisting a tight curl with his fingers.

"Not on purpose. I just haven't had time or motivation to cut it." Justin stilled Lance's hand. "You're going to stay for a while, right?"

Lance nodded. Justin kissed the tips of his fingers.

"Good. Cause as much as I like your toy, the real thing's better." Justin let his hands travel down to Lance's groin, pressing just lightly enough to get things going.

"Baby, soundcheck." Lance's voice was strangled; he had to force out the words when his body was really saying screw soundcheck.

"Twenty minutes," Justin murmured into Lance's neck, his nose pressed against Lance's Adam's apple. Lance sighed gently pushed Justin away.

"Later, J. Later."

Justin could pout with the best of them, but Lance had plans for that night, and didn't want to rush through their first time together in two weeks. Phone calls every day weren’t enough, no matter how heated they turned out to be.

The concert was fabulous. Lance hadn't expected anything else, but he was truly blown away but Justin's performance. The water wall backdrop behind the big grand piano when he played "Rain Days" was perfect, and Lance remembered listening to Justin creating the song, sitting in the passenger seat of the car cursing the wipers for not having a steady rhythm. He missed the grand finale, because two big security guards had to usher him backstage to climb aboard Justin's bus, ready to pull away before the house lights even came up.

Justin literally jumped up the steps, exploding into the lounge in a mass of sweat and white towels. "So? You like it."

Lance rose from the couch and grabbed Justin, dancing them back into the bus as the rest of Justin's entourage boarded. "You are so fucking amazing, you know that? Oh my God, that was great." He tugged Justin back to the bedroom in the rear, closing the door. "Just. I can't believe that's the same show I saw back in Orlando. It's so. God." Coherent thought was lost, and Lance couldn't keep his mouth off of Justin any longer, so he stood on his toes to kiss at Justin's sweaty forehead. "You rocked."

Justin was beaming, a big toothy smile that made Lance's knees a little weak. He clung tighter to Justin, pitching into him as the bus began to move. Justin's hands were already creeping up under his clothes.

"J. Justin." Lance tried to stop them. "Give it five minutes and we'll be at the hotel."

"Five minutes is too long," and oh, that was Justin's hand on his ass, and Lance's brain went all cloudy like a storm was blowing in from sea.

"No, come on, J. Hotel, big bed, no one bothering us until noon tomorrow." Lance tried to step away, but Justin was awfully persuasive when it came to sex. He had one hand on Lance’s zipper already, yanking it down and it felt so good to have the restriction gone that Lance didn't do anything but help as Justin fell to his knees.

Justin's mouth was wet and warm, slurping obscene noises that Lance could barely hear over his own panting breath. He watched as Justin slid further up, then slipped back and sucked on the leaking tip. Lance's knees wobbled as Justin kept switching up the movements, one hand braced on Lance's hip, the other working furiously at the base of Lance's cock. When he slid lower to cup Lance’s balls at the same time he leaned forward, taking more of Lance into the damp heat of his mouth, it was over. Lance's toes curled helplessly into the carpet and he came in Justin's mouth, a cry of completion falling from his throat as Justin swallowed and milked the last drops from his aching cock.

Blissed out beyond any chemical high he'd ever felt, Lance leaned his head back against the wall with a thud as Justin wiped his dick on the base of his already sweaty T-shirt and zipped up his pants once more. He stood, one swift movement rocking back to his toes then up so he was standing over Lance, leaning down with soft kisses that smelled like musk. Lance kept his hand on Justin's back, knowing they wouldn't have time for any more games right now.

The hotel had an underground garage with freakishly high ceilings, so the bus drove right through the crowds to the private elevator for the penthouse suites. Waving goodnight to most of the crew, Justin and Lance were ushered into the elevator and whisked up into the sky. Lance had a separate room, floors below the Timberlake entourage, but he wouldn't ever be sleeping there.

Inside, when doors were closed once again, Justin was naked before Lance could even blink, dropping socks and underwear in a trail to the bathroom, as if he might need them to find his way back out again. The water was already steaming by the time Lance had hung up his shirt and climbed in behind Justin.

They played in the spray for a while, enjoying the slippery slick slide of wet skin and bodywash. Justin washed Lance's hair with the fancy shampoo he liked, long fingers massaging his scalp until Lance was putty in his hands.

"Why do you have this?" Lance asked, picking up a bottle of conditioner and squeezing a dot onto Justin's palm. "You like that moisturizing kind."

Justin pressed a kiss to Lance's shoulder, then began to work in the creamy conditioner. "It smells like you," he whispered. "Sometimes, if I use it at night, I wake up in the morning and pretend you're in bed with me." He laughed as he turned Lance under the stream to rinse. "And if you tell anybody that, I'll fucking kill you."

Lance laughed, shaking water droplets from his hair. "Cross my heart," he said, making the motion. Justin kissed his dripping lips.

It took a long time for them to get dried off and back into the bedroom. Hands and mouths kept getting in the way, delaying the toweling process. Justin giggled when Lance finally just grabbed him around the waist and pulled him, naked and flailing, out of the bathroom and up onto the bed. Lance stretched out on his back, propped up on his elbows facing Justin, who knelt before him.

"Aggressive," Justin laughed. "And you're not the one who hasn't even come yet." He stroked his own dick a few times for emphasis, eyes fluttering closed. Lance batted his hands away, guiding them to his own shoulders while Justin knelt around his hips.

"Fuck me," he whispered, hands stroking over Justin's torso, a perpetual motion of up and down, side to side. "It's been too long, baby, fuck me."

"It's been two weeks," Justin said. "Two very- long- weeks." He punctuated the words with kisses. "But I've had my toy to play with and you've been all alone." Lance's eyes went wide when Justin got up and walked to the luggage rack in the corner, pulling the familiar cream towel from his bag. "My pretty little toy," he said as the wrapping fell to the ground. "Just like Lance."

Lance was wide-eyed and panting when Justin came back to the bed and knelt between his spread knees. He held the model up to Lance's own swollen cock, tracing each with soft fingers. "It's so fucking real," he said, bopping the rubber cock so that it bounced off of the real one. Lance shuddered and leaked a little more. Justin was playing with him, and oh, it was divine.

"Do you know what I've been thinking about?" Justin asked, his voice buttery smooth, sliding up Lance's body into his ears. "I've been thinking about you, every night. And I keep wondering, did you try it?"

Lance gasped, his body tight with arousal. "What?"

"Did you try it? Fucking yourself with your own dick?"

Lance lurched as Justin dipped lower, pressing the rubber against his opening. "No," he said. He repeated it, confirmation. "No, God, no."

"I used it to fuck me. And we're going to do some detailed comparisons later, I promise. But first." He pressed closer, not in yet but enough that it was clear things were heading in that direction. "I want you to know what it's like to be fucked by you."

With a low groan, Lance pulled his knees higher, spreading himself more open. Justin's grinned wickedly at him from above.

"Anxious?" he asked. Lance bit his lip and nodded. He hadn't touched his dick in a good five minutes and it was still throbbing against his stomach.

"Good." Justin leaned up over him to grab the lube from the nightstand drawer. Lance licked at his chest when Justin stretched, catching a nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Justin's breath hissed.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, sliding back down. “You keep that up and I won’t last to be much good for you. This first,” he said, sliding the slippery oil over the rubber, coating it good. He didn’t bother wiping his hand after, just slid it down and inside of Lance’s hole one finger at a time.

Lance let out a shuddering breath, grabbing onto his knees to keep them back when Justin finally pushed the rubber inside. He’d had bigger, but he was blown away by how big it felt, his own dick, working its way inside.

“Feel good baby?” Justin twisted, just a bit, and began to pull out again. Lance let loose a low groan as it brushed past his prostrate.

“Damn, Justin,” Lance groaned, but further thought was impossible. His body was too focused on other things.

“Yeah, baby, that’s right. That’s what it’s like for me, when you fuck me. That’s your dick, and we don’t do it all that much do we? You in me? I think we may have to change that. I’ve developed a taste for this.” He stroked up Lance’s hard cock once, sending a shudder down Lance’s spine. Justin’s other hand kept up the in-and-out motions with the rubber cock, so Lance was positively mindless with pleasure.

He nearly cried out when the dildo slipped free, and really did when Justin slid inside for real. He leaned up, catching Justin’s mouth with his own as Justin pounded away, taking Lance to new heights with his lips and hips all moving together. The world blurred in front of Lance’s eyes as he came, trembling all over as Justin kept it up again and again until his eyes slipped shut and he slid forward one last time, coming inside of Lance.

There was no energy left for conversation or a second round, as they crawled under the sheets and turned out the light. Lance rolled to his side and stared at Justin, who slid closer to the middle of the bed, where they met with gentle kisses until each drifted to sleep.

**

Lance woke first, jet lag kicking him awake at an ungodly early hour. He dashed to the bathroom then back under the covers, trying not to jostle the bed much, but Justin still rolled over and blinked blearily at him.

“Hi,” he mouthed, reaching out to touch Lance. Sometimes when Lance was asleep in his big bed at home, he imagined that Justin was reaching across and touching him. Such a small gesture was somehow more important than the big sexcapades of the night before.

“Morning,” Lance said, shifting closer to Justin. Morning breath be damned, he kissed him. Justin allowed it for only a few seconds before pulling away, nose scrunched.

“Ok, I know. Toothbrush.” Lance started to get up, but Justin pulled him back down.

“You’re staying for a few days, right?”

“Mmm,” Lance hummed, sitting up. “Until Denver, then I have to fly home for a production meeting and a benefit dinner. But I’ll meet you again in Chicago.” One week on, two weeks off. It wasn’t the best way to live, but it was better than nothing.

“It’s nice, having you here,” Justin said. His fingers danced between the flowers on the bedsheets. “The tour feels different this time. It’s good, but.”

“You’re just not used to being on your own yet. It was the same last time, wasn’t it?”

Justin nodded up at him. “I miss you,” he whispered, as if it was too great a confession to say loudly.

“Me too. But, we’re making this work, right?” Lance stilled Justin’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah.” Justin’s smile was bright, a ray of early morning sunshine. “We’re making it work.”

END

Music Notes: Scene by Scene  
Melissa Ethridge, “If I Wanted To”  
Five for Fighting, “100 Years”  
Justin Timberlake, “You Are My Light”  
John Mayer, “Back To You”  
Mandy Moore, “Want You Back”  
Tegan and Sarah, “Don’t Confess”  
REM, “Near Wild Heaven”  
JC Chasez, “Right Here (By Your Side)”  
JC Chasez, “Right There”  
JC Chasez, “All Day I Long I Dream About Sex”  
Black Crows, “She Talks To Angels, acoustic”


End file.
